


Can't Keep Pushing Me Away

by HarmonialCollisions



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Casual Sex, Feelings, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Light Angst, M/M, Sort of? - Freeform, like extremely light angst?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-09-22 14:59:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9612920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarmonialCollisions/pseuds/HarmonialCollisions
Summary: This is a very short ficlet I based off of like 6 different prompts I found on the internet.Clint and Tony are basically fuck buddies with feelings, but Tony is bad at feelings so he pushes Clint away one too many times and then they have to confront those feelings.





	

     Clint is warm. He’s comfortable. The bed caresses him like it was made to fit him specifically. He lies on his stomach, one arm stretched out and the other tucked in close. The silky covers drape over his lower back just barely covering his ass. He can’t remember the last time he was this peaceful and at ease.

     “Clint.” A voice says to his right. And the moment is broken, shattered. Clint grumbles to himself sitting up and turning to look at the other occupant of the bed.

     “Yes, Tony?” He asks. Clint rubs his eyes and squints. Tony’s hair is a complete mess. The wild curls dance around his face, some standing up tall and others held tight. Smudges so dark they resemble fresh bruises sit beneath his eyes. Tony scrunches his face, lines draw across his forehead and wrinkles spring up along his nose. Clint’s eyes travels further down. They take in the bruises, so many bruises, decorating the genius’s throat and shoulders like polka dots without a pattern. His gaze meanders down to the arc reactor glowing brightly as always. He notices what is unmistakingly a bite mark surrounding Tony’s left nipple, and he can’t help but think it must be sore looking the way it does. He looks lower still finding smaller bruises decorating Tony’s hips and another bite mark just beneath his belly button. The rest of Tony’s body is hidden under the silky sheets that Clint was admiring just moments ago. “Can I help you?” He finally asks, letting his eyes jump back up to meet Tony’s.

     “What’re you doing in my bed?” Tony asks, practically growling out the words. Clint shakes his head.

     “Sleeping?” He says, shrugging his shoulders. He fights the urge to sigh. With Tony, there’s always something.

     “Well can you go do that somewhere the fuck else?” He asks, massaging his fingers through his unruly hair and making his curls stand up even more.

     “Hey, what’s with the tone? I haven’t done anything.” Clint says. He pulls his knees to his chest and hugs them. This whole ‘morning after attitude’ thing was starting to wear him out.

     “Because it’s 8:30, I have a hangover, and you’re annoying me.” Tony says. His voices rises with exasperation.

     “How could I possibly be annoying you? You woke me up!” Clint says throwing his hands in the air. 

     “Because you’re drooling on my favorite pillow, you’re leg is on my side of the bed, and I look like I’ve been mauled by a fucking wild animal!” He yells gesturing to the black and blue marks all along his torso. Clint meets Tony glare for glare, but the other man refuses to back down from their impromptu glaring contest. Clint shakes his head and crawls off the bed. He searches for his clothes from last night and pulls them on. Their ruffled and he feels kind of gross, but that doesn’t matter right now. He keeps up his agitated face to hide how upset he actually is.

     “You know what Tony,” He says turning to face him, “fuck you.” Tony’s frown wavers a bit until it’s not so sharp at the edges. But he doesn’t say anything. Clint leaves, and Tony doesn’t try to stop him.

* * *

     Clint holds his breath, fires another arrow, and exhales. The arrow sails through the air and embeds in the heart of the target. Like always. It’s been about a month since Clint last went on a mission, and about three weeks since he’s given Tony so much as a glance. He clamps down on the spike of grief that thought gives him. He shoves it somewhere deep down inside his heart. He tries to turn it into anger, into fuel, but he can’t. He runs a few steps and leaps from one ledge to another twisting and firing in mid air. Another target down. Clint looks around for the final target and finally spies it on the other side of the training room. He places his bow on his back and runs to the higher ledge jumping just high enough for his hands to grip the top and haul himself up. He rolls to his feet, grabbing his bow and firing his remaining arrow, all in one fluid motion. Bullseye.

     Clint sighs and lies back as the elevated ledges slowly descend back into the floor. He closes his eyes and just listens to the silence around him. He focuses on his breathing. In. Out. In. ‘Click’. He ignores the sound of the door closing and the footsteps approaching him. He wishes he couldn’t instantly tell who it is, but he knows all of the Avengers’ footsteps by heart. From Thor’s heavy commanding steps, to Steve who is surprisingly light on his feet for someone so large, taking steps with grace almost like a dancer. But these don’t belong to either of them. These are as loud and boisterous as the man they belong too, although slightly more hesitant than Clint has ever heard them. He waits until Tony is right beside him before opening his eyes and looking up at him. 

     “I think we need to talk.” He says, and Tony offers him a water bottle like it’s an olive branch. Clint merely raises an eyebrow as if to say ‘so talk’ and accepts the man’s thirst quenching peace treaty. “Look, you and I... we were stupid to think we could just hit it and quit it like we were. We’re part of a team that sort of needs to work together at all times and… well, I guess we fucked that up, didn’t we? It’s been weeks, and you still haven’t said a fucking word to me. I’m sorry okay? I told you I was an asshole before we ever started doing this. I-” But Clint doesn’t want to hear it anymore.

     He stands, ignoring Tony, and heads to the door. “Hey, wait a minute! I’m trying to fucking talk to you!” He says and grabs Clint’s arm. Clint rips Tony’s hands off of himself and pushes him hard. The genius stumbles a little, surprised at Clint’s physical outburst.

     “And what are you trying to say Tony? You’re trying to let me down easy like some kind of clingy one night stand. But that’s not what I am, that isn’t what we were doing. You’re a dick on purpose, and don’t you dare try and fucking deny that!” Clint says as Tony opens his mouth to defend himself. Clint runs his hands through his air, tugging lightly on the strands. “You can’t just pretend that you don’t care. I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice. I’m a fucking spy Tony. I notice, everything.” He takes a step toward the genius, hand reaching out as if to pull him closer. He sees the way Tony’s eyes flash. Hopeful. Guarded. Scared. He lowers his hand instead, fisting them both at his sides. “I notice every time you smile after I walk in the room. I notice the way your eyes light up when I come to the lab. I feel you hold me close every time you think I’m asleep as if I’m suddenly going to disappear. But it’s always the same every morning. You find something to be mad about. You find a reason to kick me out every. Fucking. Time. So I’m done. I can’t be with someone that refuses to let themselves be happy.” Clint turns away. He picks his bow off the floor and makes towards the door. 

     “Please, don’t leave.” Tony’s request is quiet, hesitant, because he’s afraid. Clint knows he’s afraid. Every time Tony did something sweet or intimate it was because he didn’t think Clint was paying attention. And Clint let him think that. It helped keep the peace, kept things light. This is the first time Tony has let himself be openly vulnerable around Clint since they started doing… whatever this was. 

     “What do you want Tony?” He asks.

     “I-I don’t…” He starts before biting his lip.

     “You don’t know?” Clint asks. He scoffs and massages his temples. Tony chews his bottom lip which means he’s thinking, debating. Debating what, Clint doesn’t know. “Well tell me when you figure it out.” He says turning away once more. 

     “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.” Tony says louder than he probably intended. Clint pauses mid step, brain working furiously to process the words that just came out of the other man’s mouth. He turns back around and looks at Tony, and he’s right. The man looks absolutely terrified. Clint slowly walks over to Tony. The man made his move, and now it’s his turn.

     “You’re in love with me?” He asks. “Why?” And Tony gapes at him, mouth falling open but nothing coming out. Clint raises his hands to cup Tony’s biceps, gently rubbing them with his thumbs. He waits patiently this time for Tony to speak.

     “Because…. Cause you’re my best friend.” Tony says and lowers his gaze to his shoes. “You keep me company down in my lab. You make me laugh, and you distract me when I’m frustrated. You’re nice to me when I’m acting like a shit on purpose.” He says with a self deprecating smirk. “And… you’re more patient than anybody I’ve ever met. And I’m not good at feelings, so instead of being nice to you, I panic and push you away. Every time.” He says. 

     Clint slowly grabs Tony’s chin and raises it so their eye to eye once more. Despite his honest words, his face is still blank, trying to hide the fear. “I’m in love with you, too.” Clint says and pulls Tony in for a kiss.

     Their lips meet, and it’s the gentlest kiss the two of them have ever shared. It’s full of so many feelings that neither of them could ever elaborate into words. And then they pull apart, just resting their foreheads together. “Would you maybe wanna go on a date later? Like a real date?” Tony asks, wrapping his arms around Clint’s neck and burying his hands in his hair. Clint places his hands on Tony’s hips to pull him closer.

     “I’d like that.”


End file.
